


Snow and Sentiments

by deanandsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-18 05:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanandsam/pseuds/deanandsam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam goes out on a food run and runs into an old girlfriend. Good job Dean is always there to comfort his brother. Set in late season six but goes AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam trudged through the snow, diner food bags in his hands, his too-light layers of clothing doing little to keep the keen chill 

from penetrating his flesh, while the freezing rawness of his exposed face and gloveless hands just added to

his overall feeling of wretchedness.

The next time Dean told him that he needed a heavy winter jacket, he wasn't going to brush him off with the excuse of 

saving the money for their other expenses!

He hastened his step, not wanting the food to succumb to the polar temperatures.

 

As he passed he saw the bright lights blazing out from "Leonardo's Laboratory", a high-class Italian restaurant that he ironically calculated  
to be way out of his price-range.

It occurred to him that if he had become the lawyer that he had set out to be, maybe he could have occasionally afforded a meal  
in a place like this.

One thought led to another and he found himself in a similar setting, a few years back, sitting opposite a beautiful woman, 

a woman he had barely known, but who had left a profound impression on him for her beauty, courage and understanding.

 

He regretted that he hadn't gotten to spend more time with her, but sadly aware of his track-record with the fairer sex, he was glad 

she had been spared from the supernatural hex he seemed to cast on any potential woman-friends.

He threw a final glance towards the illuminated windows before turning into the corner.

Dean would be eating the furniture by now; best hurry to feed the beast.

 

She exited the door, her dark hair coiffed to perfection, looking as beautiful as he remembered.

He turned away, hoping that she hadn't seen or recognised in him the overgrown boy he had been then.

 

"Sam...!" He remembered the honeyed tones of her voice.

"Sam, Is that really you?"

He didn't want to acknowledge the question, he wanted to keep walking, but she was waiting for a reply and 

he felt his body turning, as if with a will of its own, towards her.

He met her eyes and he cursed himself for the tongue-tied feeling that came over him as he only managed 

to stutter out the one word. "Sarah."

She smiled that warm, infectious smile he remembered, and he found his lips curling up in response.

They stood like that, immobile; neither one wanting to break the moment.

 

"How have you been..." they began in unison.

"Ladies, first," laughed Sam, the ice broken.

"How have you been, Sam, " she repeated with a smile.

"I'm okay."

"You're looking well," her eyes taking in his trim muscular form; his worn clothing leaving little to the imagination, " if a little cold!"

"You too, Sarah, you haven't changed a bit."

 

"Listen, why don't we go back in, it's freezing out here. They make great coffee and we can bring each other up to date. 

How long has it been, four or five years; we've got a lot of catching up to do."

 

Sam was sorely tempted, and the heat and warmth that could be seen inside was so inviting.

He sighed," Mmm, I don't think so, Dean's waiting for his food and he's probably pissed off and pacing the floor as it is."

"So, you're still in tandem with your brother?"

"Yeah, can't get rid of him, " quipped Sam, knowing that in his heart losing Dean was the last thing on Earth that he desired.

"Then why don't you call him and get him to join us here, you can eat inside."

 

Sam considered it for a nano-second, the promise of heat, good food and the company of a beautiful woman all vying to make him  
accept her invitation.

His heart was poised to say yes, but his lips were already forming a denial.

"Sorry, I'd love to, but Dean isn't feeling very well; he's running a fever; must have picked up a virus or something."

 

He recognised the glimmer of disappointment in her eyes at the patheticness of his excuse, but he knew he couldn't accept.

Her's was a world that he could no longer aspire to; an alien landscape which could have been his, perhaps with Sarah at the centre of it, 

but that was if he had been simply Sam Winchester and not Sam Winchester, hunter, ex-demon blood addict and

ex-prisoner of Lucifer's Cage.

 

She captured his eyes with her own, their depths sorrowful for the second good-bye to a man she knew she could have loved and 

been happy with, intensified by the recognition in the soft liquid pools of Sam's eyes, of his self-same feeling of regret.

She held his gaze, not wanting to break the connection.

 

A taxi braked to a stop, splashing melted snow onto Sarah's legs.

She jumped back, surprised, turning her head towards the car.

When she brought her eyes back to Sam, all she could was the snow softly falling and his disappearing figure, barely discernable 

among the white flakes.

 

Sam opened the scruffy door and moved to the tiny table under the motel window.

"Hey, bro, my insides are sticking together here; you bring the food?"

Not receiving the expected snarky reply from his sibling quickly put Dean's big brother antenna into alert mode.

"Sammy? Something happen out there?"

"No, Dean! Nothing happened."

"Come on, Sammy, no more secrets, remember!"

"Fine, Dean," Sam answered, "I just ran into an old friend."

"Anyone I know?"

"No, just someone from my Stanford days, no-one important."

(Dean pov.)

Dean got off the bed and placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and he wasn't surprised when Sam turned into his touch and he found himself with 

a muscled wall of six foot four little brother pulling him into a bone-crushing hug, as if he was the Sam- equivalent of a giant teddy-bear.

Dean's chick-flick rule-book had long ago been booted out the window, their lives just too inhuman to prohibit the small comfort of a hug 

or an emotional moment and Dean who could never deny anything to his puppy-eyed younger brother certainly wouldn't deny him that, especially 

when the comfort went both ways.

 

(Sam pov.)

Sam felt his brother's hand on his shoulder and suddenly he needed to hold on to something solid. He felt his arms go round Dean pulling his unprotesting brother into a hug.

He expected Dean to pull away, but he remained stoically still and circled his shoulder with his arm.

Sam took comfort from his brother's touch, thinking how nothing had really changed.

Dean had always been able to comfort him when he was a child and he was still the only one who could; six foot four, muscled bad-ass hunter or not!

 

"You good, little brother?"

"Yeah... Yeah, Dean. I'm good."

"Fine, now let's see what's in them bags. You didn't forget the pie, I hope, otherwise I'll kick your skinny ass back out into the

snow to get me some!"

"Dean, dude! " huffed Sam, playing his part. "When did I ever forget the pie?"

The End.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah makes a split-second decision and follows her heart.

She turned her head just in time to see his tall figure disappearing into the thick fall of snowflakes and she realised that this was a  
decisive moment in her life.

The film "Sliding Doors" came unbidden to mind; how one's future could be decided by the outcome of a seemingly unimportant action;

in that case by getting or not getting on a train, and in her case letting or not letting one Sam Winchester walk out of her life.

 

Decision made, she hurried after him, afraid that he had already melted in to the darkness and out of her life for the second time.

She marveled at herself, usually so practical and down-to-earth, running after a near stranger, but the urgency in her steps belied any of that.

 

She hadn't caught sight of him again, he had been walking too fast, but the fates must have been blessing her quest as

she found herself confronted by a run-down motel, a place she wouldn't have ever set foot in,

but Sam Winchester was in there, and that was enough for her.

 

She hoped that the brothers still had the same car, the Impala that had sat proudly in her father's car park, a ragamuffin of the streets daring  
to rub shoulders with the royalty of the car world.

 

Yes, there it was, black and sleek, the feeble light from the motel lamps reflecting on its polished steel body; parked at the end of the row of rooms, pointing like an arrow to the man she was searching for.

 

She bowed her head against the torment of falling snow and made her way to the door.

For a split-second she hesitated, hand poised to knock, unsure whether to let it fall against the shabby door.

Her hand came down loud and hard.

 

Inside she heard the creaking of chairs as the occupants pushed them back.

The door opened to the handsome face of Sam's brother, annoyance quickly followed by surprise as he recognised her. "Sarah?"

She saw the razor- quick understanding on his mobile face, the pieces coming together.

Sam obviously hadn't told him about having met her, probably feeding him some other tale to account for his lateness and the cold food.

She boosted up her courage in the face of his scrutiny. "Is Sam there? I'd like to talk to him, if that's all right."

He flashed her an understanding smile. "He's inside, come on in."

 

She walked past Dean and her eyes took in the shabbiness of the small room, coming to rest on Sam who was trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible behind the open screen of a computer; an impossible task for a man of his stature.

 

"Sam, you ran off without saying a proper good-bye," she pouted teasingly, trying to defuse the awkward moment.

Awkward for him, for she was exactly where she wanted to be!

 

"Umm...Sorry Sarah, but Dean wasn't feeling too well and..."

She turned her head and raked her eyes over the seemingly one hundred percent perfection of his older brother's health.

"He sure heals faster than light," was her smiling reply.

 

Sam looked down at his computer; he was completely taken aback. When she had walked through the door he couldn't believe his eyes.

He had never thought to see her again; never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he was important enough for her to search him out.

Sam's features were just as revealing as his brother's and she read in his face how he considered himself to be less than worthy for a woman such as herself.

 

She turned her head back to Dean, catching his gaze, willing him to understand that what she had to say to Sam would be better said alone.

 

The bright intelligence in Dean's eyes needed no prompting.

He knew what Sarah was asking and he was willing to leave her with his brother, but his gaze had an edge of warning to it.

It said clearly" Don't hurt him, he's been hurt enough"

She got the message loud and clear and nodded in acknowledgement.

 

Dean picked up his jacket from the bed and made his way to the door.

He felt Sam's eyes boring into his back.

"Where are you going Dean? It's freezing out there." he heard the tinge of panic in his little brother's voice.

"Don't worry Sammy. I'm gonna get me a beer and hustle a little pool. Give you and Sarah some time to catch up on old times! Don't wait up for me."

 

"Dean..!

 

And with that he flounced out the door; ten seconds later the roar of the Impala cut through the silence of the night.

 

Sarah turned her gaze back to the man she had come to see.

"Sam," her voice was almost beseeching, "Aren't you even going to look at me?"

She hadn't known what to expect but the complete lack of communication on his part was unnerving.

He lifted his head and caught her eyes. They were full of such swirling emotions. He stood up and came towards her,  
dwarfing her; she who was tall for a woman.

 

Now that his brother was no longer in the room, he seemed to have changed. No longer the stuttering little brother, but a man in the fullness of his years.

He entered her personal space like a young tiger on the prowl.

"Why did you follow me Sarah; you know nothing can ever come of it." 

Her gaze did not falter even in front of this new confident Sam.

 

"I didn't want to lose you again," she stammered, not quite sure how to respond to this unpredictable man.

 

Sam felt his blood begin to race; he hadn't been with a woman for a long time, not since Death had pushed his soul back into him and put up the unstable wall, but Sarah wasn't just any woman, she was one that he could have imagined spending the next sixty years of his life with; she was worthy of his respect and he didn't want to hurt her.

 

They stood there, one in front of the other until she reached out a hand and gently stroked his cheek.

"Sam, I'm not made of porcelain, I won't break if you touch me."

 

As if those were the magic words that flicked the switch, Sam took her roughly into his arms, going from the calm young man she thought she knew,

Sarah responded with a passion as tempestuous as his, and they finished up on one of the two narrow beds that "graced" the room.

 

Sam lifted himself reluctantly from Sarah's flushed body, trying to recall, in the heat of the moment, where Dean kept his cache of condoms.

"Sam," Sarah's voice was husky with desire. "What are you doing?"

His equally hoarse voice panted out the word, "protection."

She pulled him down on to her trembling body and gazed into his eyes.

"No, Sam!" she whispered softly.

"But..."

"I know this is it for me. I'll probably never see you again after tonight but I may get something to remind me of you Sam and I want that more than life itself." she whispered.

He understood what she was asking and he wanted to deny her, but it was impossible to quench the passion that was raging through his body so he assented to Sarah's plea and he exploded in an ecstasy of fulfilment. They both did.

They made love more than once during that cold winter's night, their passion warming their hearts and bodies.

 

They didn't hear Dean as he quietly opened the door, closing it again just as quietly and laying himself down to sleep, for what was left of the night, in the cold confines of the Impala. His body was cold but his heart was warm for his brother's night of love.

 

When dawn brought a pale sunshine after the tempest of the night before, Sarah awoke to the best morning of her life.

Ironic, she thought to herself, that with all her riches, the most marvellous night of her life had been passed in a scabby motel room between dubiously washed sheets on a hard-as-bricks mattress.

But this night was now part of her, and her memories would always bring her back to this moment, with the only man she wanted and whom she knew she would never have.

However, she consoled herself; perhaps, if the fates so decide, I may still have something of him.

 

She slipped quietly from the bed and gathered up her clothing from the floor where it had been thrown uncaringly during their throes of passion.

She wanted to go before he awoke, for if she didn't she might never leave and she understood that her place was not here, not now.

He and his brother had a mission that she could never be part of.

When she was ready she savoured one last lingering look at the man she now knew for certain that she loved, and whom she would carry in her heart forever.

 

Once outside, she closed the door quietly behind her, unwanted tears filling her eyes.

 

She found her way barred by Dean, complete understanding in his compassionate gaze.

"Good-bye Sarah, Have a good life."

 

"You too, Dean." he shook his head sorrowfully at that.

 

"Watch out for Sam," She whispered.

"I've been doing that my whole life Sarah, though I haven't always been successful!"

She turned away and walked out of the motel grounds feeling Dean's melancholy eyes following her

until she turned the corner out of sight.

 

 

Ten months later she stood at the christening font alongside her father and their wealthy guests; the twin boys held safely in her loving arms.

"Sarah," her father whispered. "Why won't you tell me who the father of my grandsons is?"

 

"All, you have to know is that he is the best father they could ever hope to have, even though he may never know them, nor they him," and with that she turned her attention back to the ceremony, her love flying through the miles to wherever Sam was.

 

The End.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers get an unexpected surprise!

She flicked through the morning newspaper, her eyes drawn to the article on the front page

That made three in all, the most recent two nights ago; all men, strangled to death in their respective homes during the last weeks. No sign of a break-in or a fight or of any attempted resistance. Neither was there any motive for the deaths.

The police were stumped but she wasn't. When there was no rational explanation, the only alternative was a supernatural one.

She knew who to get in touch with for help, assuming they were still alive, but she was torn between wanting to contact them and knowing that it was a dangerous thing to do; not dangerous in a physical 'get shot in the head' kind of way but in an emotional one, for she had others to consider now not just herself, but the next day when another man was found dead in similar circumstances, her conscience warned her that she could put it off no longer.

 

She browsed through her older phone numbers, found what she was looking for and pressed call

She felt the breath she was holding exhale in relief when it went to voice-mail; she left her name and number and waited to be called back.

 

"That one of your old phones ringing there, Sammy?" Dean said elbowing his sleeping brother. Even now at thirty-eight years of age, Sam still slept better in the Impala with Dean's music bellowing out of the loud-speakers, than in any motel room.

Through the years they had slapped every kind of protection-spell and ward onto the car. She even had a 'tattoo' like the one they sported on their chests for she had been possessed a couple of times herself.

Outside of what had been Bobby's panic room, she was the safest place on Earth.

 

"Sammy!" Dean raised his voice. "Phone!"

Sam blinked his way out of the coma-like sleep he'd fallen into, eyes owlishly staring at Dean as if expecting to see someone else at the wheel instead of him.

Dean couldn't hold back a grin. Sam would never change. At least some things were constant in the Winchesters' world.

"Phone, dude!" he repeated for the third time.

"Yeah, okay, I heard you the first time" Sam answered grumpily as he rummaged in the glove compartment for the right one. They had quite a collection now, from John's old phone forward, most of the numbers still active.

He flipped open the lid and his heart did a somersault at the caller id; it was a name he'd thought never to see again.

 

"Who is it?" Dean asked as Sam stared silently at the phone.

"Sarah."

"As in Sarah Blake, the auction house chick?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed quietly, his mind going back to the last time he'd seen her, when they'd passed a single night of passion together in the shabby motel room he and Dean had been living in at the time.

 

"Well, aren't you gonna see what she wants?" Dean prodded.

"Right," Sam replied not too eagerly, pressing the recall button.

"Sam, is that you?" a familiar voice answered

"Sarah, how have you been?" he asked, surprised by the pleasure hearing her voice gave him. "Is something wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, " she said. "But there's something going on here that seems right up your street; that is if you're still chasing ghosts and whatnot?"

"Yeah. We're stupid enough to be still doing that," he answered neutrally, as if wondering himself why they were!

 

He saw Dean looking over at him an undecipherable expression on his face.

"You still in uptown New York?"

"Yes, same town, same auction house, no creepy paintings though, I'm thankful to say," she laughed.

"Right, Um. Thanks for the info. We'll check it out. We're pretty far out from you, so there might be other hunters in the vicinity who can come over and take a look. We'll get back to you, Sarah," Sam said closing the communication.

 

"What's with "there are other hunters in the area", Sammy? WE'RE in the area. It's only a couple of hours away," Dean stated. "You don't want to take the job?"

Sam just shrugged.

"Oh, come on Sammy. You and that chick had a great thing going. Can't see what she saw in a Sasquatch like you, but what's wrong with looking in on her while checking out the case. You can take her out to some classy joint, like the last time. There's a town up ahead. We can stop for food and you can research what's goin' on. If it's our sort of thing, we go. Okay?"

"Okay," Sam answered, albeit unwillingly.

Dean was right. There was no reason not to take the case but a little voice whispered in his ear that things were gonna get complicated.

He sighed, when were their lives ever smooth and easy.

 

"Four guys strangled. No breaking and entry, no motives, no clues, all the same age. Yup sound like it could be our thing," Sam confirmed, as he watched Dean delve into his burger and fries.

All his bitching through the years about healthy food hadn't changed his big brother's eating habits in the least, though he had to admit that at forty-two Dean still appeared to be in great form.

Maybe all the times they'd died and come back to life had strengthened their bodies in some way, for by this time they should really have been feeling their ages after all the punishment they'd taken.

 

Two hours later they entered the town, made their way to the auction house and parked the elderly Impala among the luxurious cars sitting there.

"Huh, there must be a sale going on. Just like last time, eh Sammy!" Dean grinned as he took in the flashy automobiles. "Come on, maybe we'll get a better welcome than we got from her old man before."

They crossed the threshold and mingled with the money-laden buyers who were inspecting the exhibits on sale.

Sam felt the urge to run; he didn't know why but as the seconds passed it was becoming ever more overwhelming.

 

"Hi, Sam, Dean. It's been quite a while," a musical voice at their shoulder greeted them.

Sam turned towards her, feeling like an awkward teenager.

"Sarah," he smiled self-consciously, studing her.

She was as beautiful as he remembered and he felt the blood pump through his veins at the memory of their night together not long after he had gotten his soul back from the Cage. That was at least ten years ago now, he mused.

"Sam," she smiled back as she studied him in turn, her eyes appreciatively raking his tall figure.

"You haven't changed a bit, neither have you Dean," she added as she tore her eyes away from the younger brother to meet Dean's amused ones.

"Nice to see you too, Sarah," he grinned. "Sammy here didn't want to look you up but I knew you would have been disappointed if he didn't drop by."

"Dean! " Sam squawked embarrassed.

 

Just then there was an excited chattering as two children burst noisily through the side-door.

"Mom, mom, there's been a fire scare at school and we were all sent home early," one of them said happily as they both zigzagged their way around the buyers towards Sarah.

The Winchesters watched as her face paled at the unexpected arrival of the youngsters but her paleness was soon mirrored on the faces of the Winchesters, especially Sam's.

 

"Sammy, " Dean whispered to his brother. "You sure do good work little brother, but man, protection!"

 

Standing at Sarah's side, looking up at them curiously, were two kids around nine or ten years old, one with floppy chestnut hair the other with freckles and a darker mop of hair to his brother's; both living breathing replicas of Sam and Dean Winchester except for the identical sets of deep blue eyes that mirrored those of their mother.


End file.
